Twisted Memories
by readbycandlelight
Summary: "You're going to finish what you started. You're going to keep watching my memories. I want you to see what I've done to them. I want the tainted filth burned into you... Burned into you the way it's burned into me," he snarled raggedly. Dramione. 6th yr
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Twisted Memories

**Author: **Tiri Lotus

**Rating: MA/NC-17**. However this version is rated 'T' so that it suits the guidelines for this site. You can read the uncensored version by clicking on my profile and going to the link provided.

**Disclaimer: **In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. I do not own anything, other than that which you do not recognize, and do not make any profit from this work.

**Summary: "**You really shouldn't have done that, Mudblood," he said in a voice that promised sinister retribution. He slowly stalked around her, taking her in at every angle. He made a point of deliberately taking his time raking her form over with his gaze. Despite the tepid air on her water-drenched skin Hermione felt a hot and humiliated flush creep upon her flesh. "But, really, I shouldn't be surprised, now, should I?" Malfoy continued. "You and your golden boys have always been big on nosing about in other people's business." Suddenly his stormy grey eyes connected with her wide chocolate gaze. The movement was whip-fast and foreboding. "Well this time I think you ought to pay for your meddling." He paused for a long beat, letting his words slither along and coat her with their poison. "You're going to finish what you started. You're going to keep watching my memories." Hermione felt the air freeze in her chest. He had stepped close enough now that he was whispering in her ear. His breath stirred tendrils of her hair. "I want you to see what I've done to them. I want the tainted filth _burned_ into you... Burned into you the way it's burned into me," he snarled raggedly.

And with that he pushed her back into the silvery, bewitched lagoon, and forced her into his twisted memories.

**Author's Note: **Ohmygoodness! My first ever Dramione fic! I've only been a lurker of Dramione fanfiction for, like, _nine years_! Haha. Hopefully I can do justice to the pairing. Please let me know your thoughts!

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><p><em><strong>Twisted Memories<strong>_

**By Tiri Lotus**

**Part 1**

Contrary to popular opinion Hermione Granger _did _get sick of studying. On occasion. _Rare _occasion – but it did happen none-the-less. When it happened, Hermione tended to have a habit of needing some time alone to clear her head. Now, in a castle full of students, professors, ghosts and the, not to be left unmentioned, ever-present portraits – having a moment alone was near impossible... Unless one were to venture into the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione Granger didn't have a particular death wish. She knew venturing into the Forbidden Forest was beyond dangerous. It had never been her intention to find a cozy nook in the forest to forget all her troubles... It had just sort of...panned out that way one day when she had gone down to take a walk by the lake one night to clear her head.

It had been meer minutes before dusk turned into darkness, when the sky had been streaked with salmon pink, crimson red, and a violently dark shade of purple, that she had come across the thin, spidery streams of silvery water that siphoned off the lake at the opposite end of the castle. At the time, she had felt the funny whooshing sensation she always got in the pit of her stomach when she could sense powerful magic was present nearby. It had given her pause in her walk.

Nibbling nervously at her bottom lip, she had blinked owlishly at the currents of ethereal water rushing from the lake, like undulating strands of spider's web floating by on a strong breeze, towards the dark silhouette of the forest. Far and away from the castle it was rushing; into parts unknown. The slender witch had squinted her eyes, looking away from her find to contemplate the castle. It looked so tiny from where she stood. A meer speck that she could blot out with her thumb if she wanted.

Hermione had listened to the babbling water rushing over smooth river rocks while she thought of the occupants of the distant wizarding castle. More pointedly she had thought of _two _particular occupants of the castle. Harry and Ron.

A no-nonsense voice in her head had said that she should turn back right then and there and tell her two best friends about the strange water and wait to find out if they wanted to investigate it further. But as soon as the thought had crossed her mind she was rebelling against it. They were the major source of her needing this alone time anyway. Hermione was sick and tired of fretting over Harry while he feverishly devoured the pages of that tampered-with potions book (really, Merlin only knew what dark and sinister wizard had written in the margins of those pages) and Ron –

She swallowed convulsively, trying to forcefully clear the tickle from her throat and the hot stinging at her eyes that preluded tears. Ron was probably off in some unused wing of the castle at that very moment snogging Lavender Brown. Hermione had glared at the tiny, picturesque castle as if she could see through to its interior and catch the tiny intertwined couple in the act.

Letting out a degected sigh, Hermione had decisively turned her back to the castle and faced the glinting stream again. And again she felt that whoosh of magic. The edges of her light brown eyes shone brightly with the silver glimmer and suddenly it was as if Devil's Snare was drawing her in towards the flowing water's edge. She followed the watery tendrils, only pausing at the entrance of the forest for but a moment before her innate curiousity and Gryffindor courage got the better of her. She stepped into the Forbidden Forest, her Mary Jane clad feet softly crunching through dead leaves as she was led along by the flowing water as if it were an enchanted guide.

Night fell around her as she walked, and it was only as she muttered a soft "Lumos" that anxiety started to creep in to her thoughts and make her start to regret her decision. Hermione Granger was a critical thinker; and over-analyzing things is what she did. The distant hum of large insects, cooing creatures, and the occasional flutter of wings through the dark and ancient trees kept her perpetually on edge. If one could have seen how she brandished her lit wand at that moment, it would have been all too clear that it was held very distinctly like a weapon.

Images of her previous encounters in the Forbidden Forest flashed through her mind as she continued her trek. She very nearly turned to head back when she thought of how her and Harry had almost been dealt the same unlucky fate as Professor Umbridge just the year previously. The only reason that they had survived that encounter unscathed was because Grawp, Hagrid's half-giant brother, had stumbled onto the scene and had distracted the angry centaurs attention away from the two teenagers long enough for them to make their escape. Being the logical girl that she was - she knew that she couldn't rely on that type of luck happening to her again.

With her stomach twisting in knots, Hermione was _just _about to turn on her heel and head back to the castle when a clearing suddenly opened up. She gasped, taking in the extraordinary sight of the silvery body of water as all thoughts to head back fled her mind.

It was a lagoon. A lagoon nestled inside the Forbidden Forest.

A misty glow emanated over the surface of the water. It suffused the surrounding area with enough light that it was as if a thousand wizards had cast 'Lumos' on their wands all at the same time. Hermione drank in the sight. This time she had not hesitated from stepping forward until she was at the water's edge. She knew what this place was. She'd read about it in Hogwarts, A History – there had been a little anecdote about it under the voluminous section about the Forbidden Forest.

It was _Stagnum Desiderii, _which translated to the 'Pool of Desire'...but it was better known by its nickname, 'Wish Granted Lagoon.'

Hermione felt her excitement mounting as the full impact of her find settled in. Only a handful of wizards had ever been known to come across Wish Granted Lagoon! And she was now one of those lucky few!

Her wide brown eyes had almost instantly fallen to a small object that was bobbing in the glowing water. It was coming towards her. When it came close enough, she was able to see that it was a slender, corked glass bottle. As it bobbed at the bank near her feet it magically rose from the water, dripping silvery drops of water back down into the lagoon. It stopped and hovered in front of her face. A piece of parchment lay inside. Hermione checked her surroundings, as if to see if this all really was happening, before, with bated breath, she closed her hand over the bottle and uncorked it.

The wisp of parchment fluttered into her open palm. Fine, silvery script started to bloom across it long enough for her to read each verse before it dissolved.

_**A wish fulfilled**_

_**If you desire**_

_**Write it down**_

_**And watch it transpire.**_

Hermione had let out a shaky breath as she had read the last words before they vanished. The lagoon was allowing her to grant a wish.

Hermione's hands trembled slightly as she gripped the now blank parchment while she thought of what she desired. All 'Outstanding' grades on her N.E.W.T. Exams, equal rights for all magical creatures, Ron's love-

This last one had brought her up short. She had closed her eyes, and this time she couldn't stop a hot, traitorous tear from escaping and sliding down her cheek.

She wouldn't wish for that. No matter how much she wanted it. It would be forcing her will on another.

But she thought of how much her heart ached, and how many sleepless nights she'd endured - thinking about Ron with Lavender. Night after night she would cry until there were no tears left; until there were only ugly, broken, dry sobs while the image of them touching each other lovingly burned itself behind her retinas and refused to leave.

She was done with feeling that way.

So she decided to amend the wish and forget about Ron's love. It was time to look forward to someone who reciprocated her feelings.

She closed her eyes and tapped her wand on the parchment. This time the words flowed onto the parchment permanently.

_**I wish for the one who desires me most to come forth and let me know of his feelings.**_

When the last word etched itself into the parchment, the parchment suddenly disappeared from her grasp and then reappeared in the glass bottle once again. The bottle had recorked itself.

Hermione Granger had let go of her wishing bottle and watched it gently float back down into the Wish Granted Lagoon. It bobbed away until it was a speck in her sight, and then, like magic, it vanished with a flash of light.

Still a little dazed at the fact that this all had really happened, the bushy haired witch had backed away from the body of water and made her way back to her dormitory in the castle. That night she fell asleep quickly, anticipating her granted wish with an innocence that would leave her reeling.

She had no idea of what she had just unleashed.

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><p>Ancient and powerful magic rushed invisibly towards the castle. It creeped through the stone walls and wove itself into the sleeping quarters of its intended target. With a blast it infused itself to the wizard. The teen wizard woke up with a startled gasp. Blinking surprised, light colored eyes, he let out a shaky breath as he tried to figure out what had started him awake. For minutes he stared at the shadowy hangings on his four poster bed, but nothing came to him. Finally, letting out an uneasy breath, he sunk back down into his comforter and drifted back into sleep.<p>

Sharp, clever brown eyes invaded his dreams.

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><p><strong>To Be Continued...<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

_**Twisted Memories**_

**By Tiri Lotus**

**Part Two**

By the time breakfast was over, Hermione was seriously regretting her wish.

How could she have been so rash?

So..._selfish_?

She could have done a lot of good with that wish if she hadn't been so set on her own girlish whims! She could have possibly even saved the whole wizarding world with a few well chosen words.

'I wish Voldemort and his Death Eaters were all dead,' being a very good example of a wish she could have made...

Though something nagged at her that a silly little wish made by a school girl couldn't truly be enough to bring down the most powerful dark wizard known to wizarding kind.

But, still! She could have at least tried!

Hermione continued to silently berate herself as she slid her incredibly heavy spellbooks and parchment into her book bag. A quick glance over her shoulder showed her that _he _was still staring at her. Hermione shivered inaudibly in disgust and turned away, exiting the Great Hall.

Of course, the reason why she was so angry with herself could be because she had come down to breakfast to find out that the wish she had made last night had turned into her worst nightmare.

_He _had been there in the Great Hall, sitting to his breakfast and stalking her with his predatory gaze. At first she hadn't noticed it as she made a few minor adjustments to her _Advanced Rune Translation _assignment...but it hadn't taken long before she started to feel uneasy, like someone was watching her intently. That's when she had looked up to find his heated stare on her. She'd seen something in those eyes that she had never seen directed at her before by a member of the opposite sex. _Hunger_. Pure, masculine, unadulterated hunger. It had been as if he was mentally undressing her then and there in the Great Hall! Her first reaction had been to be highly disturbed. However, it had quickly turned into a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

'This must be the man my wish brought me,' she had thought in despair.

At that moment he had made sure to hold her gaze as he brought his spoon to his lips and licked the porridge off of it suggestively. At the action Hermione had felt her own porridge revolting against her. She had taken one last glance down to the remnants of her breakfast and decided she wasn't hungry any more.

How could she be? Pompous, hotheaded,_ lecherous_ Cormac McLaggen was the one that desired her most.

In her haste to get out of the Great Hall, she didn't notice the other pair of eyes following her movements. These eyes were more guarded in their observation. If anything they looked to be accusing her of something.

They were grey eyes.

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><p>Hermione, unlike Ron and Harry, had known all along that the extra free periods that they were being given in their sixth year should be devoted to the extra studying that they needed to be doing for their N.E.W.T. level subjects. However, she was finding that 'studying during free periods' was all easier said than done.<p>

At this point in time she was currently avoiding her own common room so that she didn't have to suffer seeing the sight of Ron and Lavender cozily wrapped around each other on one-person chairs. And, much to her chagrin, she was finding that the library, her usual safe haven, wasn't an option these days either. Cormac McLaggen was in hot pursuit of her. As if it wasn't enough that she had to put up with his company during Slug Club (because those traitors Harry, Ginny, and another redhead she wasn't speaking to were scheduling all of their Quidditch practices so that they were _purposefully _missing the meetings), but she also had to deal with Cormac during her free time as well!

At this point she was rather regretting ever casting a Confundus charm on the seventh year Gryffindor so that Ron could make Keeper on the Gryffindor team instead of him... At least if the tall, wiry-haired dark blond had made the team he would have less time to pester her!

So instead she found herself moving restlessly from abandoned classroom to abandoned classroom, digging her quill harshly into her homework when Cormac would eventually find her, grinning at her like it was a game of pursuit that he'd won.

It was one day, when he'd cornered her in a broom closet with a sprig of mistletoe (the holidays were fast approaching) that she finally had had enough. Narrowly making her escape, after thoroughly being molested over her school robes, she had made her way around the lake and towards the Forbidden Forest entrance where she had spotted the enchanted silver streams that first time. Somehow, someway - she was going to undo her wish.

Only - as much as she searched, she couldn't find the streams. It was as if they had vanished without a trace.

Her heart sunk when she realized that she was going to have to live with her wish.

What a complete nightmare.

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><p>A complete nightmare indeed. It had been a few weeks since she had tried to get back to Wish Granted Lagoon with no avail. In that time Cormac McLaggen hadn't let up in his pursuit of her, and Ron and Lavender were only getting more sickeningly couple-y by the minute. Hermione angrily wiped at her streaming eyes as she exited the Transfiguration classroom to the sounds of laughter at her expense. It was one thing to be made fun of by someone like a mean-spirited Slytherin - she would expect their dripping disdain - but for Ron to mock her in front of their housemates, imitating her by waving his hand in the air over enthusiastically and acting as if he knew the answer to everything... Well, that really hurt... Especially seeing the fact that Lavender enjoyed Ron's little show immensely.<p>

This time when McLaggen approached Hermione she was ready for him.

"Do you want to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with me?"

"Oh yeah," Cormac said enthusiastically. He was so tall that Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that he could easily see down the front of her robes. He didn't have the decency to be more subtle about the fact that he was leering.

Tomorrow evening, the night of Slughorn's Christmas party, was going to be a _very _long affair, Hermione thought a bit glumly.

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><p>She couldn't do this. She pulled away from Cormac's mouth. A frown pushed out her full, pink bottom lip.<p>

"Why are you so interested in me?" she asked the seventh year Gryffindor. She knew why she was giving this a go... She'd made a wish, and she felt, maybe there had to be more to McLaggen than just sheer brawn and an over-developed ego. Maybe he was deeper than she had first thought - if only she gave him a chance to show it.

He grinned down at her, his eyes filled with lust. It was odd, but Hermione felt like she'd seen this look on his face a thousand times before, directed at dozens of different girls. It felt...impersonal. "I think you know," he whispered in an attempt at seduction, trying to recapture her lips while they stood under the mistletoe at Slughorn's party.

She gently pushed him back a bit, resolute to get a straight answer. "No. I don't. Why do you desire me?"

He let out a strangled breath, clearly getting annoyed at her interruptions. It reminded her of when she first became aware of him at Gryffindor tryouts earlier that year. He'd been so nasty when he hadn't gotten his way.

He must have decided to change his tactic because suddenly he grinned, as if he were indulging her. "All right," he said heartily. "I desire you because..." His eyes dropped to her chest. "You've filled out quite nice, Hermione."

It took her a minute to process this - but when she did she was livid. _That was it_? That was the big reason why he was interested in her? Because of her _chest_?

She completely stepped back, not even bothering to hide the contempt from her voice. "I need to use the lavatory," she said as she turned her back to him.

"All right," he said, a little perplexed.

She dodged him for the rest of the night and made an early escape from the party.

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><p>Hermione felt completely wretched.<p>

She dabbed at her eyes while she walked aimlessly along the shore of the lake. Her light brown, caramel colored hair was wild and free and tumbled down her back while she strode around in her pale pink dressing robes that she had worn in occasion of the Christmas party. Her only regret with leaving so soon was that she had forgotten to pick up her shawl. Her arms were bare and she was freezing in the chilly winter air.

She couldn't believe her luck. If Cormac McLaggen was the one that desired her most - then that really wasn't saying much, was it?

Hermione stopped walking all of the sudden to glare up at the moon. Not for the first time she wished for simpler times, when all she cared about were books and cleverness.

It was so much easier than dealing with the mess of hormones, feelings, and _boys_ that were also jumbled in her head now.

She changed her direction to look down at the ground, saw a pebble, and viciously kicked it towards the nearby Forbidden Forest.

It landed somewhere not too far off with a splash.

Hermione whipped her head in the direction of the splash, her eyes going wide.

Could it be?

With a little spark of hope building in her chest, she picked up the trailing hem of her gown so as not to get it stuck in brambles and branches and headed into the forest. She was greeted with enchanted little silvery streams that flowed like a beacon towards a destination she was awfully keen on getting to. With a determined gleam in her eyes she set into the direction that the streams were flowing towards. With any luck she was going to cancel her old wish and make a new one that would be for the betterment of wizarding kind this time around!

When she made it to the silvery lagoon she gave out a delighted gasp. It was just as she remembered it! As she neared the bank she watched as a slender glass bottle bobbed and meandered its way over towards her, gently floating into her grasp.

However, when she caught a glimpse inside she noticed something most peculiar... It looked as if the parchment was already written on, and there was also a tiny glass vial containing a silvery liquid held within the glass bottle.

A bit hesitantly, she uncorked the bottle. The parchment and vial slid out seamlessly into her palm. The parchment was inked in dark emerald green, and it read in slim and spiky, yet elegant, script:

**_Make me forget._**

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion at this odd request...

Well, demand really. It was three simple words that spoke volumes. Whoever wrote this was desperate to forget something, but not so desperate as to obliviate themselves - which was a bit comforting.

Her attention was drawn to the vial. At this point her clever mind had figured out what the liquid contained inside of it was - and she was itching to find out about it...

The silvery substance within the vial was memories. Someone wished to forget their memories.

A movement within the lagoon ripped her attention away from the vial and she looked to see the water swirling. It started out slow but it picked up speed until it was a silvery, glimmering whirl pool.

It looked a lot like...a pensieve.

Hermione looked to the vial again and worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Her conscience only made her pause for another moment before her overwhelming curiosity had her uncorking the vial and pouring the waif-like silvery memories into the magical lagoon.

Miraculously, like a muggle waterworks show, the instant the memories touched the water it was as if the surface had turned into a screen bursting with color and crystal clear, moving images. At first they shimmered and were so layered and warped that Hermione couldn't tell one memory from another, but after a few moments it honed in on one image. Hermione was startled to find herself staring into a larger than life memory of Draco Malfoy.

So engrossed in this discovery was she that she didn't realize that she had let go of the pale pink hems of her gown until she stepped closer to get a better look and tripped over herself. She landed in the lagoon with a splash.

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><p><em><strong>To Be Continued...<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Twisted Memories**_

**By Tiri Lotus**

**Part Three**

The sensation was like being sucked into a cold, spine-tingling abyss. Hermione felt herself falling, falling, falling through a warped shadowland in varying shades of grey, black, silver and blue. Memories and bubbles burst and shimmered around her until her blurred equilibrium suddenly righted itself with a maddening lurch. Her lungs filled with crisp air as she was thrown into a dry, bright memory.

She dragged in lung fulls of air, blinking rapidly against the memory sun's blazing rays. It took her a moment to get over the fact that in this reality she wasn't soaked-through and freezing after pitching into the lagoon like that. Her delicate pink robes were as dry as ever - but she took note that they did not blow in the breeze like the rustling leaves on the surrounding trees did - the light material of her gown lay motionless against her body; a sign that she did not truly exist or effect this dimension.

Her eyes slid rapidly over her surroundings. She was on a stone footpath that artfully twisted around perfectly landscaped grounds. In the distance, a majestic stone manor could be seen through the dappled leaves of ancient and flourishing trees. She was struck by the beauty of this place, and momentarily forgot whose memory she was observing until first one and then another figure with shockingly white-blond hair came out of the distant manor and started strolling towards her on the footpath.

Irrational panic seized her when she realized just who was coming towards her. A strong urge to flee gripped her as it dawned on her that this beautiful place must be Malfoy Manor...and Lucius and Draco Malfoy were heading towards her.

She swallowed her panic, however, as her logic settled in. This was a memory. Of course it had to be. In Hermione's present world Lucius Malfoy was in Azkaban prison for his participation in the Death Eater attack at the Department of Mysteries! And, as the two pureblood wizards came nearer towards her, she noticed that Draco Malfoy was several feet shorter than she knew his current sixteen-year-old self to be. There still was a baby-roundness to this Draco Malfoy coming towards her, and his hair was severely slicked back. He looked just as he did when Hermione had seen him for the first time during their first year at Hogwarts!

Finally the strolling father and son were upon her. She took hurried steps backwards, never letting them out of her sight, as they stared right through her at the path ahead of them. It was quite eerie to be witness to this subdued moment between this particular father and son. She knew that if they could see her - a lowly, undeserving Muggleborn in their eyes - that their handsome, aristocratic features would be twisted into disdainful sneers. She was only too relieved that she was invisible to them.

They walked for several minutes longer, in which time Hermione had let them pass her up so that she could follow behind them. They seemed to be comfortable with companionable silence as they walked along... Although Hermione did note that little Draco Malfoy seemed to have an anticipatory gleam in his eyes, as if Christmas had come early. At this point in time, after having known the white-blond Slytherin for six years, she knew that no good could ever come from that particular greed-filled look of his.

After several minutes of walking through the vast and picturesque grounds of Malfoy Manor, the father and son duo finally stopped at what looked a lot like horse stables... Only they were a lot more sturdy and expensive looking than the average stables. She peered closer, still not comfortable enough to get into the Malfoy's personal space - even if it was a memory. Lucius Malfoy looked down upon his heir and gave him a lazy, indulgent smile. Young Draco Malfoy seemed to be acquainted with this look because he flashed his father an eager, reverent look before taking one step forward towards the nearest stable.

Hermione clutched at her heart as a jet of flames shot out of the nearest stable. She could not feel the heat of the flames, but still - the unexpectedly bright, roaring fire was a shock to the senses. Young Draco Malfoy, who had almost been in the line of fire, stumbled back with wide, imploring eyes and whirled around to face his father again. Lucius Malfoy's lazy smile never faltered.

"Go on, Draco. Isn't this what you've always wanted? A miniature Japanese Samurai Heart Dragon of your very own? They are very rare and expensive, Draco. Nearly unattainable. But here one is, and he is all for you... Don't be rude. Show appreciation for what you've been given."

Hermione felt her stomach plummet in dread as she watched the calculated look in Lucius Malfoy's eyes as he spoke to his son. How mad! What could the older wizard be thinking - making his son come face to face with an obviously dangerous creature!

Young Draco Malfoy wavered on the spot for a moment, looking between the stall where the fire had burst forth from and then back to his father again. He looked extremely uneasy, but at the hardened set of his father's features something within his eyes shuddered and he was a determined young boy again. He stepped forward with clenched fists; his boyish, underdeveloped chest puffed out beneath his expensive dark robes. Hermione watched with bated breath as he purposefully walked toward the tumultuous dragon stall again. There was the sound of a creature sniffing the air; sparks of flames ignited and then disappated. Draco finally touched the stall with a trembling pale hand.

He had made it. The young, curious dragon crawled out of the shadows and peered at him with its red and black eyes. It was about shoulder height to Draco and seemed to be assessing him. Finally, with a blackened snuff of air it nuzzled its head into the boys chest.

Lucius Malfoy stayed cautiously at a distance and spoke. "They only bond with one human throughout their whole lifetime, and that one person becomes their master. You are the first to come into contact with him, son. He is yours and yours alone."

Hermione's vision of the memory melted in swirling colors. The last image she was left with was of a young, awestruck Draco Malfoy giving a genuine smile while he petted his dragon. She'd never seen that look on his face before.

Suddenly another image burst forth. Once again it was the Malfoy father and son together but Draco seemed slightly older and a lot less happy than he was in his other memory. Lucius Malfoy was lecturing Draco as they sat in an impressive study. Lucius was behind a desk in a opulently inlaid dark chair, while his son sat opposite him in a much smaller and less comfortable looking chair. Hermione noted that it looked as if the lay of the room had been done on purpose to make whoever was occupying the guest chair feel less significant compared to the the Head of the Malfoy House.

"You've failed me, Draco."

Anguish flashed upon the young boy's features but he said nothing. Lucius continued. "I made only one simple request of you. Become the Potter boy's friend." His eyes narrowed. "And you couldn't do it. Something must be done about your failure so that in the future you will not mess up again." He stared at his son with a calculated look. He was taking his time thinking up a punishment. "...The dragon," he finally said decisively. "You are not to visit him in the stables until you can prove your worthiness."

"But you can't! Orion won't understand why I won't come to see him-" the younger Malfoy started to say, looking crushed. Hermione assessed that Orion was the name of his dragon, and that he had come to care very deeply for his fire-breathing familiar.

"_You will obey me, boy!_" Lucius Malfoy thundered ominously.

Draco hushed his rebuttal submissively. "Yes, Father," he said with his head bowed.

"Now leave me," the elder Malfoy said, pointing towards the door. "I cannot stand the sight of you right now."

Draco's lower lip trembled as he left the room, but Hermione never saw him cry because as the doors to the study closed behind him she was pitched into another memory.

"Tell me about this Granger girl I am hearing word of," Lucius Malfoy said across the long and oppressively empty table that he, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy sat at eating breakfast.

At the mention of her, Hermione felt her stomach lurch with icy cold foreboding. Her eyes were inexplicably drawn to the Daily Prophet that Lucius Malfoy held in front of him. The date on it indicated that it was the summer between their first and second year of Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy, who was now taller but still young and boyish looking, scrunched his brows together in confusion.

Lucius explained a bit intolerantly, "Word is circulating throughout the Ministry that she is the brightest witch of your age. Who is she? A relative of Hector Dagworth-Granger perhaps?"

Hermione recognized the name as that of the brilliant wizard who had founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. In present time, Professor Slughorn had asked her the same question upon their first meeting. There was a spark in Lucius' eyes as he asked the question, as if were the connection to be true, he would hold her status in high regard.

Draco seemed to mull this question over in his head for a moment, thinking of a good enough answer. He slowly shook his head. "I cannot be certain. She could be... She _is _rather brilliant. She knows things that I haven't even-" He trailed off of that train of thought at his father's raised brow. "Her parents are muggles."

There was a deafening silence as these words registered. The interested spark in Lucius' eyes dimmed, to be clouded over with disgust. "She's a..._muggle-born_?"

Draco dropped his eyes to the fine linen tablecloth and nodded his assent.

"A _Mudblood _is the brightest student of your year? She has higher marks than you?" Lucius slapped his copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table with an explosively loud noise as he asked this. Draco and Narcissa flinched in their seats. Draco trembled under the seething gaze of his father. "_Answer me, boy!"_

"Yes," Draco said in a wavering voice. "Sh-she has the highest grades in every subject. I try to keep up but-"

"A Malfoy is below _no one! _Especially not some filthy little Mudblood. Do you hear me, boy?"

"Y-yes!" Draco said, looking ashen.

Narcissa stretched across the table, seemingly to make a comforting gesture to her son. "Don't!" Lucius said to her warningly. She immediately straightened back into her seat. "You've obviously coddled our son enough. He needs a firmer upbringing if he is going to uphold the Malfoy name, like my father did for me and his father did for him." He settled his gaze on his son. "You've grown far too comfortable around here, Draco. I believe it was a mistake to give you certain privileges back. Say goodbye to your dragon," he said callously. "I will be getting rid of it. You will also be taking on more tutoring while you are home for the summers. No Malfoy will ever be bested by a Mudblood. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," Draco said thickly, nodding his head. His eyes were red and shiny as if he were about to-

"Do not cry," his father added with a sneer.

Draco clenched his jaw and forced control over himself.

Hermione thought back to her second year, how Draco Malfoy had called her a Mudblood for the very first time on the quidditch field. She was sure that she was now witnessing the start of where his cruel animosity had come from. Hermione felt an ache in her chest for this young boy suddenly. She'd never put thought into why he was the way he was, but stepping into his memories was making her realize how bleak and cold his upbringing had been. With a whirl she was pitched into another memory.

Draco was in the stable, curled into an embrace of his magnificent red and black dragon, Orion. He cried unchecked into its long, smooth-scaled neck as he whispered his goodbyes. Hermione felt her breath catch as she witnessed the magical beast nudge gently against him in comfort. Their bond was as clear as day.

A flash and suddenly Draco was much taller and leaner. His face was chiseling out into that of a young, fit teenage boy and his silvery white-blond hair was looser, longer and hung over his eyes. His cool grey eyes registered shock and a younger version of herself launched at him wildly and punched him. The scenery changed and Draco was skulking in the Hogwarts library stacks, peering in between two books. Shakily Hermione stepped forth, still unused to the rapid changes in her surroundings. She peered in between the two books to see what he was staring at.

She blanched when she saw that it was herself.

She was hunched over her table and surrounded by a pile of books. She was oblivious to everything surrounding her, except for the books, parchment and ink right in front of her. Her hair was more unruly than usual because every few flicks of the pages she worried her hands through it in thought. Hermione was witnessing a moment of herself in third year, when she was taking double the amount of classes with the Time-Turner.

She looked back to Draco Malfoy to find him still staring at third year Hermione through the stacks. The look on his face was unfathomable. He lingered a lot longer than Hermione was comfortable with, just staring. Finally the muted tones of two students in a different stack seemed to snap him out of his daze and his eyes lost that transfixed look. He glared at Hermione's younger self and whispered under his breath, "Stupid, overachieving Mudblood," and departed. The scenery changed once again and she was at the entrance of a lavishly furnished Great Hall. She stood next to a handsomely dressed Draco Malfoy. He was in formal robes of a dark emerald green that were tailored perfectly to his form. On his other side was his date, Pansy Parkinson, looking agape. Draco Malfoy followed Pansy's gaze and caught his breath as he looked on in amazement. Hermione followed both of their gazes towards...herself, yet again. It was her fourth year self, dressed in her floaty periwinkle-blue dress robes she had worn to the Yule Ball.

On and on Malfoy's memories of her surfaced, and as she watched flashes of herself going about her business, living her life - the parchment that she had read before she had been swept up into the lagoon started to nag her. _Make me forget._

Fifth year, raising her hand enthusiastically in the front row while Draco Malfoy lingered in the back, glaring at the back of her head.

_Make me forget._

Hermione at The Three Broomsticks with Ron, laughing over something they found funny at the time. Draco Malfoy sat behind them, staring mutinously.

_Makemeforget._

Sixth year; a very recent memory. She was in Slughorn's Potions class and her hair was wild and frizzing about her as she frenetically stirred her Draught of Living Death potion to win Felix Felicis. A few rows down, Draco Malfoy's accusatory gaze was on her while he absently stirred his potion. His attention was only ripped away from her when his potion gave an ominous hiss and turned into a sickening mess.

_Makemeforget Makemeforget Makemeforget._

Hermione felt her fury mounting as the images seized her. Angry tears crooked at her eyes. His father had made him loath her so much that he wished to forget her very existence. It hurt. It hurt badly. What made it worse was the fact that Draco Malfoy never intended for her to see this insult. It was no petty and superficial jibe. He very seriously wanted to forget her existence.

At that very moment a very powerful grip savagely ripped her from the memories and out of Wish Granted Lagoon. She gasped for air as she was suddenly back in her present reality, soaked to the bone in icy water and in her sodden pink dress robes.

She blinked her eyes a few times to clear the water from her vision...and was met with the seething gaze of Draco Malfoy.

This time he was real, and in the flesh.


End file.
